The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-10-01
VICTOR.
BY WILL HuBBARD-KERNAN.

"Victor, my Victor!" Out of my sleep I sprang as spoke the name, For, oh! 1 had seen thee in dream-had looked in thy bright, brown eyes, And thy laughter and look, and thy tone and touch were the same-were the very same
 As of old when this passionat te planet of ours tous was a paradise. II was only dreaming" said to my self, and gazed from the lattice where The golden moonlight was sitting through the boughs of a blasted tree, And I saw-I saw with a shudder and sob a gray old gravestone there That bore the name of a noble one who was body and soul of me. "Victor, oh Victor!' cried once more, "when thy sovereign hour was near, And clasped and kissed thee, oh, comrade mine, with mad, fierce, hopeless moan, heard thee whisper, Be brave, oh, heart though unto an unknown sphere My soul is passing, l will come back unto thee-my own my ownt Then through the oriel windows stole a radi ance half divine, And zephyr waited the rose leaves in from the garden green outside. As Samuel set upon thy brow his awful and august sign,
 And they said that between Us lay At last q universe waste and wide. But spake with a smile of scorn for death My darling will come to me- Though his atoms shall blossom again with life in the pure, sweet pansy flowers, Though they drift with the clouds in the cry $ tai sky over many Il dim blue sea, Or thrill in the threats of the singing-birds they swing in the budding bowers; "Ay! though they glitter in grain fields bright, and, passing from form to form They enter the bodies of other men, and on through an endless chain, know-I know he will come to me with his passion sweet and warm, And wonderful as it was of yore, without one spot or stain!" But, Victor, Victor thy VOW i, still unvital iZed by thee,
 Though our planet has passed through the suns and snows, the songs and sObs of years; And my soul in agony has appealed to gods that it cannot sec Til, ground into unbellef at last il breaks into bloody tears. God what is that by thy gravestonc there that strange, netlable light Instinct with the life that thrObs in melt seems of my self part? What subtle essence has entered earth and unlverse and the night? And what is it calling unto my brain and spirit and sense and heart? Victor, oh, Victor! it is thee l feel it is thee my own!
 No longer a solitary self, but blent with the universe; Thrilled through with every blessing il know or has ever known. Yet bearing with pure, brave power its every crime and curse; A part ofall that has ever been is or will ever be-
 From the yellow light of the planet to the yellow primrose there; \ part of the very Godhead and the glorious part of me;
 \ part of the craw ling serpent, and a part of the bird in air And 1 know N hen out of the finite to the in finite shall go, will shne in the light immortal of the sun upon my grave, l will bloom in the red. proud rose that out of my heart shall grow, And live in the larger freedom of the wind and wood and wave l will laugh in the little children; 1 will love in the lovers breast; will cry with vast keen rapture as melt in thy mystic soul; Will know the suprcmest action, will feel the divinest rest,
 And who was here an atom shall aggregate the whole. Then here is to death my darling! drink Of the ripe, red wine; And here is another bcaker to coffin and shroud and pail! And here is unto the hour when my soul shall fuse with thine
 Through the circlcs of Gods creation, and be of thee all in-all
 -NeW York Mercury.